


Eromenos

by rainbowdracula



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Biting, Cannibalism, Character Death, Dubious Consent, Infidelity, M/M, Not Hannibal or Will, Serial Killers, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-13 11:59:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3380693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowdracula/pseuds/rainbowdracula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will took Greek mythology to round out his schedule of psych classes and to fulfill an academic requirement. He expected an easy class.</p><p>He did not expect Hannibal Lecter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter of this terrible, terrible story. No warnings for this chapter except a non-graphic mention of a mythological cannibal, but things are going to get real dicey eventually.
> 
> Unbetaed. Find me at rainbowdracula.tumblr.com to hear me talk about my classics classes, which are taught by amazing non-cannibals.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His first lecture of his first year, and he is lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First chapter of this terrible, terrible story. No warnings for this chapter except a non-graphic mention of a mythological cannibal, but things are going to get real dicey eventually.
> 
> Unbetaed. Find me at rainbowdracula.tumblr.com to hear me talk about my classics classes, which are taught by amazing non-cannibals.

_Hello,_ Will practiced in the dresser mirror before class. _I'm Will Graham. I'm majoring in psychology._

His roommate was still asleep in an ungraceful sprawl, head covered by his blankets. Hints of the morning sun were peeking through the blinds. His first real day of college was awaiting.

 

He slipped out into the hall, the dorms so quiet compared to the crazed noise of move in weekend. Will ran a nervous hand through his wild curls, tugged at the edge of his old and worn sweater. The campus was still in the morning, the autumn sun streaming through the emerald trees that shaded the brick pathways that snaked towards the elegantly arched Humanities building. Will slipped inside, like he wasn't supposed to be there, and made his way through the winding hallways with his shoulders hunched.

 

The lecture hall seemed immense, with tall windows down the right side that let the sun stream. Students were trickling in, ranging from curious to bored, and Will took a seat towards the middle of the room. People in the middle, he had learned, don't get noticed.

 

Greek Mythology was chosen to round out his schedule and fulfill an academic requirement, mostly. It seemed like a nice reprieve from his psychology classes, and it gave him ample excuse to stay in the library and read. He was already weary of his roommate – too loud, boisterous, filling the little room with strangers. He fished out his composition notebook, fresh and bare, and carefully began to date the corner with quick black ink.

 

The door opened. The air shifted. Will glanced up, and froze.

 

The professor – tall, with proud shoulders and a gaunt face – was settling his fine leather briefcase on the desk. His jacket was even finer, all his clothes at least tailored to fit him perfectly, if not bespoke. His hair was neatly brushed back, leather shoes polished.

 

He looked at the class, eyes dark, and Will _knew._

 

This veneer of a friendly professor was stretched taunt over his bones, a suit he buttoned up like he buttoned up his shirt in the morning and shed come dark, when there were no more pretenses. It had been stitched together with mimicked snippets of humanity he had carefully practiced, an actor up on stage, and it was flawless to everyone.

 

Everyone except him, of course. Few things slipped past Will.

 

The predator shifted, gaze assessing as it swept over the class before falling on Will. Will felt pinned by it, an insect with a needle poised over it, and the predator tilted his head, curious. He forced himself to control his breathing, look down at his notebook and his neat little date in the corner before the gaze passed.

 

"Hello," the predator spoke, dark and smoky. European. "I'm Doctor Lecter. Welcome to Greek Mythology. I hope you are all my students, but every year I have some that jump up and go running off..."

 

Laughter, then, the tension in the room broken. Will stared resolutely at the screen until the hour had passed, and then he immediately bolted out the door.

 

In an unused hallway, he slid down to the floor and just breathed, sharp and rattling.

 

Will Graham had a party trick.

 

It was so easy for him to slip away from the anxious thoughts that paced around his skull and crack open someone else's, spare a glance and know everything about them. No secrets, with Will.

 

 _You'll make a good therapist,_ his high school guidance counselor had assured him. But Will, damn him, found the thoughts of his peers passing fancies. No, he always lost himself in the darkest of fantasies, the most twisted images. Killers and monsters, painted bright behind his eyes. He was going to get his degree, and then work for the BAU, where he'd be comfortably remote from the beasts he sought.

 

He wasn't supposed to meet one in person. Not yet, not so unprepared.

 

He sat there in that hall for as long as possible, before he had to stretch his limbs and go to his next class.

 

Sitting in Introductory Psychology, Will decided to avoid Doctor Lecter as much as possible. He could not imagine having trouble in Greek Mythology, as long as he stayed on top of the readings. No need to go to his office hours, or be alone with him. Will smiled, soft and private, pleased with his plan.

 

Not that it meant much.

 

-

 

"I want you to write me a paragraph," Lecter explained, two weeks later, "About one of the stories we covered. Handwritten is fine. End of class on Friday."

 

A gentle groan, Monday morning worsened by more schoolwork. Will ran his thumb over the curled cover of his used textbook, pondering his choice.

 

The class had certainly been...illuminating. Lecter did not shy away from brutal retellings nor did he ever gentle the realities of Greek culture. He took immense pride in his work, in his curling words and vicious stories. Will's notes would've disturbed his classmates, half about his words and half about the man himself, interspersed with long, tangled drawings of trees.

 

They had spent a day on sacrifice, and then Lecter had told the story of Tantalus with some form of ghastly delight.

 

"He killed his own son and served him as an offering to the gods," he said with a smile. "The greatest of taboos combined – the murder of kin and cannibalism. His punishment, then, is particularly cruel, forever forced to have food and water so close but he can never touch it."

 

Will wrote about that, in his neat and nervous hand. His dark laugh planted itself in Will's head, grew labyrinth dreams he awoke from gasping and _starving._ He wrote of Tantalus, curling words like Lecter's smoky voice, so frantically jotted he almost tore the page. Will ended up typing his paragraph to hide his fevered dreams, turned it in crisp and impersonal with the rest of his sleepy classmates.

 

They got them back a week later, the TA rattling off their names in a bored drone.

 

"Very good," Lecter purred. "I've done my best to leave comments on every one."

 

Will's was in the middle, and when he retrieved it he felt Lecter's dark gaze boring into him. His breath came out in short gasps, heartbeat like a rabbit's. He scurried back to his seat, and looked at the bottom of his paper.

 

_Excellent insight. If possible, I'd like to discuss this with you after class._

The handwriting was precise, elegant. Unsigned, but Will knew who it belonged to. For the rest of the lecture his hand worked on autopilot, taking notes for him, while his thoughts shuddered and twisted around and around.

 

His peers liked Lecter, he knew, but never went alone to his office hours. Even they, their minds limited to themselves, could sense what Will _knew._ He felt like he was approaching a lion when he walked up to Lecter after class, neatly putting away his papers in his briefcase.

 

"Ah," Lecter said when he saw him. A terrible smile twisted on his face for a minute, before settling into something warm. Friendly teacher. "You must be Will."

 

"Yes," he answered. Swallowed. "You wanted to talk to me, Doctor?"

 

"I did," Lecter confirmed. "Come, let's walk to my office."

 

The walk was silent, Will trailing in Lecter's long shadow. Like always, his clothes were either expertly tailored or bespoke, costing more money than Will's dad could make in a year. He could not imagine spending thousands of dollars on clothes. He could not imagine spending thousands of dollars on anything.

 

"Here we are," Lecter murmured, unlocking the door and holding it open for Will.

 

His office was neat, with great windows that let in the sunlight. There were bookshelves covering one wall, and Will was instantly drawn to them, running his fingers over the old spines.

 

"You enjoy books, Will?" Lecter asked, amused. Will flushed, shuffling over to the chair in front of his dark wood desk.

 

"Very much, sir," Will murmured. Lecter's face was almost indulgent when he sat across from him. His presence almost overwhelmed the tiny room, and Will shrank himself.

 

"An excellent hobby," Lecter said. "Few things cultivate the mind as well as a good book."

 

Will hesitantly returned the smile, and then coughed.

 

"You wanted to talk to me about my paragraph?" he asked. Said paragraph was in his lap, crumbled at the edges.

 

"I found it quite...unique, compared to your peers," Lecter said, leaning back. "Their work was satisfactory, for the assignment, but I can't say I've ever had a freshman student psychoanalyze a myth, before you."

 

Will's hot flush grew hotter.

 

"I'm...I'm studying psychology," Will mumbled. "I guess I fell into old habits."

 

"A first year psychology student could not have written this," Lecter said. His voice was very low. "Your insights were brilliant. Any future patient of yours will be very lucky, to be under such a great doctor."

 

"Oh, I'm not..." Will said. "Any patient of mine will be beyond help. I want to work for the FBI."

 

Lecter laughed like rich red wine.

 

"I feel safer already," Lecter replied. "To know one such as you is hunting the vipers of the world."

 

He stood, a single elegant motion, and Will stumbled up after him, eager to leave his smothering presence. Lecter offered his hand for a shake, and let it linger.

 

"I am planning on starting research for a book, soon," Lecter said. "I would be honored if you'd help me. It would be an excellent thing to put on any resume."

 

"Oh," Will said. "I'd be...I'd be honored, Doctor. I've got class though, I've got to..."

 

Will ran out of the office like he was on fire, Lecter's dark eyes on him the whole time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the ancient Greek practice of pederasty, the eromenos ("beloved") was the lover of a typically older man who acted as a mentor.
> 
> I made Hannibal a Classics professor because I know nothing about psychology but I do know a lot about Greek mythology. Will comes across as kind of spineless in this chapter, but I'm definitely planning on showing our vicious mongoose in his full glory soon.
> 
> This is based off an original horror short story I wrote once. If people want to see it I'll post it to my tumblr, but it does contain spoilers for the basic plot of this one.
> 
> I hope everyone likes it!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Graham meets a savage man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Begins with an intense, graphic scene of cannibalism. There's some Matthew Brown lovin' in this chapter, to make up for the fact I killed him last time. Dub con tag does not apply to this chapter.

He was walking in a field of white flowers, and the sky above was gray.

 

The pedals brushed against his naked skin, whispers of touch that had him sighing. Sometimes he would see dark wisps in the corner of his eye, but then he would turn and there would be nothing. He kept moving forward, caring not for his destination, time molasses slow in a place so very beyond it.

 

The endless gray expanse of the sky was broken by something, black dots moving in perfect circles. He moved towards them, curiosity breaking through his malaise.

 

As he drew closer, he heard the great cawing of crows, deafening in the heavy silence. Closer still, and he found a patch of flowers torn up so a grisly rite could be performed.

 

There were women, finery torn asunder by their own hands, and they were crowded around a ripped open corpse. The corpse's glassy eyes were staring up into the gray, face permanently frozen in ecstasy. And the women were eating him, tearing him into raw bloody chunks that stained them red.

 

They turned to stare at him with animal eyes, and they opened their bleeding mouths with soundless wails. One, a dirtied wedding veil covering her long dark hair, turned to him. In her hands was a raw heart, and she offered it to him.

 

He reached out and gripped it, still warm. Blood ran down the pale skin of his thin arms. He looked towards the gray sky, and raised the heart to his lips...

 

In his narrow dorm bed, Will awoke with a gasp.

 

The barest hint of sunlight slipped through the closed blinds. In the bed across the room, Zeller snored. Will's curls were soaked through. His stomach growled. He sat up and checked his phone – six thirty. Greek Myth wasn't until nine.

 

Will got up. He'd take a shower, get some coffee. A pastry, maybe.

 

The cold winter air was coming down and turned his breath into mist and the emerald leaves into fire. His cheeks pinked during his brisk walk to the cafe on campus, to get a latte and a croissant to settle his stomach. He had brought his backpack with him, and fished out his mythology text book. He considered its worn cover.

 

Doctor Lecter kept inviting him into his office for discussions. At first they were simply about the class, then they strayed into psychology. Literature, for Will loved books so. Politics. Philosophy. Cooking.

 

"The food they serve in the dining halls is an affront," he sneered. "The body is a temple only the finest of sacrifices should be made to. I will have you over, one day."

 

Despite himself, Will started to like these little chats. They were quite different from the ones he had with his peers – Zeller was chasing parties, Beverly sometimes became too much, and lovely Alana was too wrapped up in her studies to speak of anything else.

 

He never let his guard down, however, ready to bolt at any moment. The predator prowled around these talks, still.

 

Will played with the cover his text book until it was time to go to lecture. He took his seat in the middle, though he knew it wouldn't offer protection – Lecter could pick him out of a crowd of thousands. Millions.

 

Doctor Lecter saw Will as clearly as Will saw Doctor Lecter.

 

Lecter came in, his presence as smothering as ever. His eyes met Will's, and he gave a slow, crawling smile. Will shivered, knowing today's lecture was going to be particularly brutal.

 

"Hello, class," he said. He didn't need to raise his voice – no one dared talk during his lectures. "I've spoken before about the Olympian gods, but today I decided I wanted to focus on one in particular. My favorite, in fact."

 

He turned on the projector. A statue of a limber, naked youth with curls to his shoulder splashed on to the screen. Will blushed, and he didn't know why.

 

"Dionysus, god of wine and revelry," he said. "Madness. A particularly good patron deity, then, for a university."

 

Laughter.

 

"He was honored by the great Dionysia in Athens, where some of the greatest works of literature were created and preformed for his pleasure," Lecter said. "But his true worshippers had no need for temples."

 

Slide switch. Renaissance painting. Wild women in animal skins. Eating.

 

"Dionysus was beautiful enough to drive the highest born of women into the throes of madness," and his voice was like candle smoke, now. "The Maenads moved in a frenzy, tearing apart anything that got in their way."

 

Red chunks.

 

Will's stomach growled.

 

"The god of the vine, who dies every winter but returns in the spring to make the orderly Greeks base again," Lecter finished. Will's grip on the edge of his chair was white knuckle.

 

He did not take notes for the rest of the lecture, throwing his notebook into his battered backpack in his rush to get away. His attempts were stopped by a gentle voice behind him.

 

"Um, hey."

 

Will turned, and was surprised to see a boy there – handsome, built. Smile shy and sweet. Will hesitantly returned it.

 

"I'm Matthew," he said. Will shook his hand.

 

"Will," he replied.

 

"So, um, are you doing well in the class?" he asked. Will nodded. "Great! Will you...are you willing to help me study? For the midterm, I mean."

 

Will blinked. Boys did not ask him to help them study. Or "study."

 

"Sure," stumbled out of his mouth without his permission. Matthew's whole face lit up. They exchanged numbers.

 

"Tonight," Matthew promised. "I don't...I don't have a roommate."

 

Will watched Matthew leave, surprised at the whole brief exchange.

 

"It is said we learn best from our peers."

 

Lecter's voice was amused. Will jumped at the sound of it.

 

"Do you have to study, Will?" Lecter asked. "Or do you have time for a chat?"

 

Will had endless amounts of time.

 

"What do you think of Dionysus, Will?" Lecter murmured at the door shut. Will shuddered.

 

"I can't," he began. Stopped. Began again. "I can't imagine someone driving me to do...that."

 

"You cannot imagine a beauty so fine, so incomparable, the sight of it makes you weep, knowing nothing will ever compare?" Lecter sighed. "I can imagine you, dear Will, driving men to such savage depravity. Had you been born two thousand years prior."

 

Will flushed hot.

 

"Had I been born two thousand years prior," he said. "I would not have met you, Doctor."

 

Lecter's chuckle was dark.

 

"I could not think of a worse fate, than to be denied your company," Lecter said. "Men have warred and raged over much less."

 

The tension in the air crackled, their words dancing on an edge Will had only glanced at before.

 

"Have they?" Will whispered, eyes cast down so his eyelashes spread over his cheekbones. A sharp breath.

 

"Your friend Matthew certainly thinks so."

 

A change of subject. Will exhaled.

 

"Youthful infatuation," Lecter said. "It's quite sweet."

 

"I've never noticed," Will murmured. "People usually don't...look at me, like that."

 

"I greatly doubt that," Lecter replied. "For all your insight, perhaps something slipped by."

 

Will swallowed.

 

"I have to...I have something to do," he stumbled. "I...Goodbye, Doctor Lecter."

 

"Goodbye, Will," Lecter laughed. "Have fun at your study session."

 

The laugh followed him out the door.

 

-

 

Matthew's dorm was across campus from Will's, a long walk taken at sunset. He seemed almost surprised to see Will at the door, as if he was sure Will had been a mirage in the lecture room.

 

"My room is a little messy," Matthew apologized, as he led Will up the stairs. "I've been busy..."

 

The room was impeccable.

 

"I'd love to see your idea of neat," Will deadpanned, and Matthew laughed as if Will told the funniest joke in the universe.

 

Matthew sat in the desk chair, while Will settled on the ruler-straight bed.

 

"What are you having trouble with?" Will asked. Matthew scratched the back of his head.

 

"I guess I'm worried about the long answer question," he said. "I don't think I can analyze a myth to Doctor Lecter's...standards."

 

"He is very demanding," Will agreed. "But I'm sure if you study a myth well enough, you can get it. Which one do you like?"

 

Matthew licked his lips. "I liked what he talked about in class. About Dionysus."

 

"Ah," Will murmured. He dug out his textbook, let it fall to that place. "It was a really good lecture. There's a lot of stories about Dionysus..."

 

Matthew stood, movements sure like they weren't before, and settled beside him on the bed.

 

"Which one did you like?" Matthew asked, low. Will bit the side of his mouth.

 

"Maybe you should..." Will began. Matthew pressed closer, warm. "His followers are interesting. Compare their behavior to that of the upstanding Athenian women."

 

"Brilliant," Matthew breathed, and his mouth descended on Will's.

 

The textbook clattered to the floor, forgotten. Matthew pulled Will into his lap, big warm hands slipping under his shirt. Will buried his fingers into his hair, and Matthew moved to kiss his throat. Will's head dipped back, curls spilling around his shoulders.

 

"I've been looking at you since the first day," Matthew confessed into his skin. "Sometimes I can barely pay attention in class, I ache for you so much. I couldn't get up the courage to talk to you, you were so beautiful."

 

Will ground his hips down in small circles.

 

"What made you change your mind?" he gasped. There was a flush across his cheeks, wine red.

 

"He showed a picture of that statue," Matthew said. "And I couldn't help but think...I couldn't help but think that it looked so much like you, free of inhibition."

 

Will pushed Matthew back, so his head was bent up to stare at him in reverence.

 

"Would you like to see?" he asked. "Do you want to see me?"

 

"More than anything," Matthew said.

 

Will slipped out of his lap and away from the fingers that longed to pull him back. He turned his back to Matthew, let each piece of clothing fall away with a coy look. Matthew seemed enraptured.

 

Bare, he turned. Matthew stared in open awe.

 

"How are you real?" he asked. Will stepped between his legs, and Matthew pressed his face into his stomach to kiss the pale skin there.

 

"I'm as real as you," Will said, playful. He settled back on to Matthew's lap, pulled him into another kiss. Stripped of his clothes, his barriers against the world, he felt different. Powerful here, amongst such a pious believer.

 

Matthew pressed him down on to the bed, enthralled by the way Will's dark curls spilled across the white pillowcase. Will's lithe legs wrapped around his waist, tugging him closer.

 

"Would you worship me, Matthew?" Will asked, as Matthew sucked kisses down the length of his body.

 

"Yes," he confessed. "Yes, yes, yes..."

 

"Then worship me," Will said. Permission granted. Matthew moaned, biting into the flesh of Will's hip, and Will cried out.

 

"Anything," Matthew promised feverishly with bites and kisses. "Anything for you, anything you want, I'll never leave you..."

 

When Will awoke the bite had turned into a throbbing bruise. He ached deep into his muscles, but it felt good. He stretched out, and wondered where the comforting weight that had curved along his back the night before had gone.

 

As if on cue, Matthew came through the door. His arms were heavy with a fast food breakfast.

 

Upon seeing Will's surprised look, he blushed.

 

"I didn't know what you would like," he said, earnestly. "So I got everything."

 

Will smiled. "Thank you. Come here and warm me up."

 

They shifted around, so Will was cradled against Matthew's chest as they sat up in bed and dug into their little feast. Matthew pressed a kiss on to one of the bruises left on Will's shoulder.

 

"You're perfect," he said with wonderment.

 

_I can imagine you, dear Will, driving men to such savage depravity._

"You got me breakfast," Will replied, and kissed Matthew's cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "On a great headland by the shore they saw a beautiful youth. His rich dark hair flowed down over a purple cloak that covered his strong shoulders." - Edith Hamilton's description of Dionysus in Mythology
> 
> Hannibal's lecture about Dionysus is accurate. This story is getting wildly out of my control. If they make a movie about the Olympian gods Hugh Dancy should definitely play Dionysus. Do not expect such fast updates again.
> 
> I'm at rainbowdracula.tumblr.com if you want to learn more about Greek mythology.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A feast for two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning - EXTREMELY dubious consent/coercion occurs in this chapter, along with infidelity and some violence. Please take good care of yourself.
> 
> In other news I'm complete trash.

"How as your weekend, Will?"

 

Lecter's office, again. This time, he stood by the books, pulling them out to examine and then return them to their proper place.

 

"Fine," Will answered. He spent it in Matthew's room, under his questing hands and worshipful mouth. "I studied."

 

Lecter was watching him from his desk, quieter than normal. He seemed...curious. Watchful.

 

"For my test?" Lecter asked. He had a clock on his wall, and each twitch of the hand was as sharp as a whip crack.

 

"I have other classes, Doctor," Will said, finally turning to face the dark gaze.

 

"And many teachers," Lecter murmured. "How was Matthew as a pupil? Surely you _taught_ him much."

 

Will flushed. No matter how much he tried, there was no hiding the purple bruises on his pale skin.

 

"He was an apt student," Will snapped back.

 

"Far than just apt," Lecter said, and stood. Will stepped back, shoulders bumping against the bookshelves. "You are either worshipped, or you are a worshiper. Such brief days, and yet Matthew is crazed by the very thought of you. You cannot understand devotion, but you take full advantage of it."

 

"Matthew's my boyfriend, not my slave," Will spat. "Why, if I didn't know better, I'd say you're _jealous,_ Doctor Lecter."

 

Lecter smiled as if he had been pleased.

 

"You will learn, my dear Will," Lecter said, low and dangerous, "The savage man you've shackled."

 

Lecter stepped back, and Will could breathe peacefully.

 

"I would have you for dinner," Lecter declared. There was no room for argument. "At my home, where our conversation can be uninterrupted and the food not an abomination."

 

"I feel like this is unethical, or at least unprofessional," Will said, a token protest.

 

"Much learning occurs over meals," Lecter said. "And I have much to teach you."

 

"Yes, sir," Will answered dutifully, and made his escape from the office. Around the corner, Matthew was waiting for him anxiously.

 

"Hey–..."

 

Matthew pulled him into a hug, and then a toe curling kiss.

 

"I mussed you," he confessed when they pulled away.

 

"You saw me at breakfast," Will said. Matthew nuzzled his brown curls.

 

"Too long," Matthew complained. "I would look at you always."

 

Will laughed, and danced away from his embrace. "Alana and them are waiting for us."

 

Matthew followed behind him, pulled.

 

-

 

Alana, Beverly, Zeller, and Price were already at the cafe when Will and Matthew showed up.

 

"Finally the lovebirds decide to reveal themselves," Beverly called out.

 

"Sorry, I had to talk to Doctor Lecter about his research thing," Will said. He slipped into a booth seat, and Matthew huddled close.

 

"You and your crazy projects–"

 

The conversation rambled on, twisting and turning at their leisure. Will noticed Matthew hadn't spoken in a bit, and when he looked at him he was glaring.

 

"What's the matter?" Will asked, quiet and private. Matthew shook his head and smiled at him.

 

"Nothing. It's just...a guy was checking you out."

 

The table erupted in laughter.

 

"Get used to it," Beverly said with a grin. "Everyone wants a piece of Will Graham."

 

"They do not!" Will protested hotly. The arm around his shoulders tightened minutely.

 

Everyone was laughing, except Alana – she just looked _concerned._ Will readied himself for the well intentioned lecture.

 

It came after Matthew had seen him off with a kiss on the cheek, and Will and Alana started their walk to psych.

 

"Matthew seems...intense," Alana said.

 

"Yeah, a little," Will replied. "He gets a little on edge in social situations."

 

"And he likes you a lot, doesn't he?"

 

"The bruises don't give it away?"

 

Alana took the deep breath she did right before her lectures, as if preparing herself for hours of nonstop talking.

 

"I think he's moving too fast."

 

Despite knowing what she was going to say, Will still winced.

 

"Alana–"

 

"You guys met that day and then spent the whole weekend together?"

 

"We got swept up in the moment–"

 

"And today in the cafe? I thought he was going to murder that poor guy for daring to look at you."

 

"Everyone gets jealous sometimes."

 

They stopped just before the classroom, the university moving all around them still.

 

"You're already making excuses for him," she ended.

 

"We're still adjusting to each other, Alana," he said. "Give us time to settle, it'll be fine."

 

Will squeezed her shoulder.

 

"But thank you for looking out for me."

 

Alana smiled small.

 

"Someone has to. You certainly don't."  


Thirty minutes into lecture, his phone buzzed – a text from Matthew.

 

_Thinking of you._

Will texted back _Pay attention!_

A minute later, his phone buzzed again. He glanced at it, already knowing what Matthew was going to say –

 

It was not Matthew.

 

The number was unknown, but Will knew who it was.

 

_Friday, at 5:30. Do not be late._

-

 

Lecter's house rose like a castle, taller than the rest of the street by benefit of who ruled it. Will felt unprepared, his button up shirt and nicest blazer ill-fitting armor. He brought nothing with him, unable to imagine Doctor Lecter would be appreciative of whatever cheap wine he could buy off of someone.

 

Five thirty on the dot, he rang the doorbell.

 

Lecter answered him in a fine waistcoat and tie, smile pleased.

 

"Welcome, Will," he said. "I'm glad you could make it."

 

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, Doctor," Will said, and stepped inside.

 

The house was as opulent as expected, richly decorated and furnished in deep, royal colors. The air was heavy with lovely, delicious smells – roasting meat and vegetables.

 

"I thought it would be fitting if we ate what the Greeks ate," Lecter explained, and led Will into the dining room.

 

The long mahogany table had two place settings – one at the head, and the other directly to the right. Will had no delusions about who would sit where. Lecter pulled out his seat for him.

 

"The Greeks were proud of their simple foods and moderation," Lecter said, as sure as he was in his lectures. "They mocked the Persians for their grand feasts."

 

On the table was a handful of dishes – bread with vegetable spread, carefully peeled hard boiled eggs, roasted olives and chestnuts.

 

"Their frugal diet is a result of the landscape of Greece," he continued. "It is a steep, rocky land. Difficult to grow both crops and empires."

 

Like in class, Will just let himself listen to the rhythm of Lecter's voice.

 

"Bread was central to their diet," Lecter said, and carefully began to place food on Will's plate. "This is unleavened and made with wheat flour, spread with cabbage and onion roasted in olive oil."

 

"Did you bake it yourself?" Will asked. Lecter smile.

 

"I did," he confirmed. He picked up the dark wine bottle on the table and poured a glass for himself, and Will.

 

"The wine is Greek, of course," Lecter said. "Agiorgitiko grapes, red with a particular cherry flavor."

 

"Should you be serving me wine, Doctor?" Will teased. "I am underage."

 

"You cannot tell me that you have never drank before," Lecter said. "It's better that I teach you how, instead of some stranger at a party."

 

"And how do you drink, Doctor Lecter?" Will asked.

 

"You cannot just gulp the whole thing down," he said. "You must savor it fully – the smell, the texture, how it lingers on the tongue..."

 

Lecter swirled his glass, and brought it up to his nose. Will mimicked his actions, the sharp smell of the alcohol cut with the fruity smell of the grapes. He took a long, linger sip of the wine, eyes locked with Will's.

 

"The Greeks cut their wine with water," Will said. "They considered the act of drinking uncut wine barbaric, and that it leads to madness."

 

The wine had stained Will's lips even redder.

 

"Perhaps they have a point," he replied.

 

They ate the appetizers with their fingers, and when they were gone Lecter rose and collected the plates. Left alone in the cavernous dining room, Will let his eyes wander up to the painting above the fireplace. He recognized it immediately – Leda and the Swan.

 

Leda, the beautiful queen of Sparta, who was seduced by Zeus in the form of a swan and bore Helen and Polydeuces. Will flushed at the explicitness of the painting on such blatant display – did he keep it there always, and did his fancy friends brush it off as the eccentrics of a Classist? Or did he bring it from its hiding place, just for Will?

 

Lecter returned, bringing vivid red broth in the most delicate china bowls Will had ever seen.

 

"Sparta was famous for its black broth," Lecter explained, placing the bowl down in front of Will. "It was a pork stew, with vinegar, salt, and blood, served with cheese and bread."

 

"Blood?" Will asked, surprised. Lecter smiled.

 

"Blood soups are common around the world," Lecter said. "We have no recipes for the Spartan black broth, so I had to...improvise."

 

"Didn't the Greeks find blood ritually impure?" Will asked, staring at the soup dubiously.

 

"That doesn't mean they didn't enjoy the taste," Lecter said. "People have always enjoyed things they find distasteful."

 

Will took a sip, and it was delicious, like everything else Lecter made.

 

Like the appetizer, the soup course was a slow progression. No matter how much Will drank of the cherry red wine, his glass never seemed to dip below half full. There was a flush building on his cheeks and staining his lips.

 

"Are you enjoying the meal, Will?" Lecter said. Will nodded.

 

"Oh, it's delicious," Will assured. "I can't imagine two more courses, though."

 

"The Greeks were quite frugal with their meals, don't worry," Lecter purred. "You'll have plenty of room for more."

 

He swept away the soup bowls, and returned with the man course.

 

It was served on a beautiful silver platter, a thick, prime cut of beef with a drizzled yogurt sauce on top. It was garnished with grape leaves, and smelt divine. Will's stomach growled.

 

"I took some liberties with this one, I'll admit, but it is in the same spirit," Lecter said. He sliced into it, revealing the rare insides. "A sacrifice fit for a king."

 

"It looks amazing," Will said. Lecter served him a lion's share, and they settled in for the meal.

 

"I often think of the first thing you wrote for me."

 

Will blinked, looking up at Lecter. "About Tantalus?"

 

"Yes," he said. "You were the first student I saw – so many bored and curious faces, and yet I saw yours, so stark with _revelation._ You looked upon me and knew what I kept so hidden."

 

Will froze in bringing a piece of meat to his mouth.

 

"And then you wrote that beautiful paragraph," Lecter continued. "Your peers were nothing, their words banal and inane compared to the poetry you wrote for me. I knew that I could not teach them, that my lessons would be lost on them, but they would not be lost on this bright boy."

 

Lecter leaned forward. Will felt very small.

 

"I–..."

 

"Here was a beautiful boy who could see so clearly and who wrote me of Tantalus, yet he still chose to eat at my table," Lecter laughed. "You have a blind spot, William."

 

Will's stomach lurched. His fork clattered to his plate.

 

_The body is a temple only the finest of sacrifices should be made to._

_For all your insight, perhaps something slipped by._

_A sacrifice fit for a king._

"Oh, Jesus," Will whispered. "Oh God..."

 

"If He does exist," Lecter said blandly, "He is not here."

 

Will bolted out of his chair. It fell with a resounding clatter. He ran into the grand marble kitchen, hand slipping along the slick countertops.

 

Desert had been placed out – pomegranate seeds, in a gorgeous porcelain bowl. He hit it with his hand and it shattered on the floor, spilling out like droplets. Will did not dare look behind him, but he knew Lecter was stalking behind. He did not dare let up.

 

The house seemed to twist back on itself, the maze of hallways returning him to exactly where he was before. He had no hope of hiding from Lecter in here, so intimately acquainted with his kingdom.

 

He spotted a heavy door he had not seen before, close to the kitchen entrance. He dashed towards it, throwing it open with all his might. He kept running forward, only to miss the top step of a shadowy staircase and tumble down.

 

It was, fortunately, a short flight, and Will only felt bruised when he managed to sit up. He was in the dark, only the faint light from the left open door spilling down, and it took a second for his eyes to adjust.

 

When they did, he gasped.

 

It was a basement, quartered off by plastic curtains. Will crawled forward on his hands and knees, before he finally managed to stand on shaky and battered legs. He limped forward – Lecter would have a back entrance here, he would not take the sacrifices through the front door...

 

He pushed aside the plastic curtains, and revealed a surgeon's steel operating table, with a neat row of tools lined up next to it. There was still blood on it, from the dinner.

 

"It's an altar," Will murmured to the man standing behind him. "To the gods."

 

Hannibal growled, gripping Will's curls and bending him back so they were eye to eye.

 

"To myself," he corrected. "For myself. By myself."

 

"Why?" Will choked.

 

"Why did you let Matthew lay his hands upon you and follow you like a dog?" Hannibal asked. "Why do I bother teaching a group of children day after day, knowing my lessons will not stick? Do you know what my name means, William?"

 

"The Carthaginian general," he wheezed. "He almost managed to defeat Rome..."

 

"The grace of Ba'al," Hannibal corrected. "A god so great and terrible his worshippers killed their children for him."

 

Will whimpered, mouth opening in a soundless plea.

 

"The boy you ate today was your age," Hannibal whispered, right into his ear. "Beautiful, certainly, but not nearly as interesting. He worshipped me, and I honored him in a feast meant for a creature unmatched.

 

"I will teach you that level of devotion."

 

Hannibal's teeth sunk into the meat of Will's neck, and Will screamed out, back bending even further. His hand reached back and gripped Hannibal's hair.

 

"Oh, oh, oh..." he said, cheeks and lips as dark as wine. _"Hannibal."_

 

Hannibal smiled, victorious.

 

Will was lifted off the ground and cradled in Hannibal's arms, heart hammering as he was brought up the stairs and into the dim lights of the house once again. Hannibal was humming something, a song that made Will's eyes droop. His bones ached.

 

Hannibal laid him down on a plush bed, stripped him out of his dirtied clothes. Will moaned, curling up into a tight ball. Hannibal smiled, indulgent.

 

"Lazy boy."

 

Hannibal tugged on Will's leg, causing him to sprawl out. He was naked, bare. He tried to hide his face by pressing it into the silken covers, but Hannibal wrenched his head and forced him to look into those dark eyes.

 

"You're _mine,_ " he said. "That boy can bite your skin until he draws blood, but he has no idea what he bedded."

 

There was a soft, warm light on behind him, shining like a halo.

 

"Hannibal," Will whimpered. "I want..."

 

"I know what you need," Hannibal assured. He lifted up one of Will's battered legs. "You'll never want for anything ever again."

 

He sunk his teeth into the flesh of Will's thigh. A trickle of blood dripped down the pale skin. Will screamed.

 

" _More!"_ he demanded. Hannibal smiled, and worshipped.

 

The world reoriented itself, and Will was on his stomach, hiding his face into the duvet. His entire body ached. His shoulders shook as tears welled, unbidden, to his eyes. There was a shift, and Hannibal draped his weight across him.

 

"Hush," Hannibal purred into his ear. "I have you."

 

He hummed the song from before, until Will had no more tears left and drifted off into a fitful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is almost three thousand words of utter filth.
> 
> Per usual, I've worked hard to make all information presented here is as accurate as possible. The information about Ba'al is a little sketchy, as there are several deities that go by that name, but human sacrifice Ba'al seemed the most fitting. All the information about ancient Greek diet is very accurate, including the Black Broth soup, but with some embellishment as we don't have any cookbooks or anything. Agiorgitiko wine is apparently really good (is it obvious I don't drink?)
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed it. The last proper chapter is next, but I might post an epilogue as well.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revelry turns sour, or how Will was lost forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A character dies in this chapter, you can probably guess which one based on the tags. Once again, graphic depictions of violence and cannibalism, with minor sexual themes.

Will awoke to the sun warming his back.

 

His whole body ached, deep in his muscles. His legs were jelly, bruises and bite marks littered his skin. Will wanted nothing more than to sink back into the heavy and soft bedspread and never wake up again, but the creaking bedroom door stopped his plans.

 

"It's snowing."

 

Hannibal stood in the doorway, dressed in loose sleeping pants and a sweater. He seemed almost wholesome, a complete one-eighty from the beast Will met last night, but there was that hint of darkness in his eyes when he looked down at Will's bruised leg curled around the duvet.

 

He strode over to the window and threw open the curtains, revealing the thick layer of white that had settled over the city while he was wrapped up in the house. It was blindingly white, and Will looked away. Hannibal shut the curtains again, plunging the rich, red room back into dimness.

 

"I'm washing your clothes," Hannibal assured, and pointed to a neatly folded pile of clothes on the chest at the foot of the bed. "You can borrow these. I'm making breakfast."

 

He bent down to press a soft kiss to Will's throat before leaving the room. Will laid there for a moment, collecting himself, before he rose and stretched. He looked at the clothes on the dresser – a pajama set, silk boxers.

 

Will put on the top and the silk boxers before leaving the richly appointed bedroom.

 

In the day, Hannibal's castle was brought lower to earth, no longer the dark and twisted maze that haunted his dreams. It was easy to find the kitchen with its fantastic marble countertops, no sign of the violence of the night before upon its pristine floors. Hannibal stood there, frying eggs and sausages. Will's empty stomach turned uneasily.

 

"Good morning, Will," Hannibal said, before looking up. He seemed caught off guard by the way the shirt hung off Will's slighter frame and his long, slender legs.

 

"Thank you for the clothes, Doctor," Will said. "What's for breakfast?"

 

Hannibal recovered admirably.

 

"A full breakfast, to contrast the frugality of last night's dinner," he said. "Fried eggs and sausages, whole wheat toast with jam, and potatoes fried in olive oil with onions and peppers. This is served with freshly squeezed orange juice and French pressed coffee."

 

"Decadent," Will noted. "Where am I to put it all?"

 

"I'm sure you'll find room," Hannibal purred. Will sat at the island, feet dangling above the floor. There were great windows that looked out into the garden, nestled under a blanket of snow.

 

Hannibal placed breakfast in front of him, beautifully arranged. He sampled each part of the dish, leaving the sausage for last.

 

Hannibal watched with obvious hunger as Will delicately, deliberately sliced it up and put it in his mouth, sliding the flesh off the fork and swallowing it down.

 

"Delicious," he murmured.

 

Hannibal was around the island and in his personal space before Will could blink, crowded him and crashing their lips together in a long, searing kiss. When they parted, he pressed kisses down Will's exposed neck and collarbone.

 

"Will you lay with that savage boy tonight?" he asked hotly in Will's ear. Will laughed.

 

"Yes," Will said. "We're going to a party."

 

Hannibal returned the laughter darkly.

 

"When you let him worship you," he said, "I want you to think of me. When he's inside of you, I want you to think of how _deep_ I was. When he kisses you, I want you to think of how no other man will possess you as fully as I do."

 

"Oh," Will sighed, as Hannibal pressed more kisses. "Yes."

 

He ate the breakfast made so perfectly for him. He showered in Hannibal's absurd shower, with the waterfall head and expensive soap. He was wrapped up in his freshly dried clothes and bundled up into the Bentley, to be driven back to campus.

 

The car's windows were tinted to the point of blackness, but Hannibal still hid it out of sight when he dropped Will off.

 

"I shall see you again soon," Hannibal murmured, running his thumb over Will's plush lower lip. "I have so much to teach you."

 

"And I have so much to learn," Will murmured, before he slipped out of the car.

 

He made his way across campus in the snow, laughing in delight at the students playing around like schoolchildren granted a day off. A brief stop off at his dorm to get his heavy winter coat, and then he made his way to Matthew's room.

 

"Your cheeks are all pink," Matthew laughed, kissing them in delight. He dragged him up to his room, pressed him down on to the thin little mattress. Will thought of Hannibal's great canopy bed, overflowing with pillows and blankets.

 

"It's cold," Will whined, curling up tighter to Matthew under the blankets. Matthew laughed again, rolling them over so he was draped over Will's back.

 

"I'll keep you warm," Matthew promised. "Where's Zeller's party, again?"  
  
"Fraternity Row," Will hummed. "Big kickoff to Dead Week thing. Zeller promises insanity."

 

"The world's going to explode," Matthew mused. "If Zeller thinks it's going to be insane."

 

Will nuzzled the crook of Matthew's neck. "I don't want to go, but Beverly would have my head."

 

"I'll keep you safe," Matthew promised. "Won't let anyone else even look at you."

 

"You don't have to go that far," Will laughed. "It's just a party, I'm not going to be stolen away."

 

"You have seen the way some people look at you," Matthew said, suddenly deathly serious. "Like you're a piece of meat."

 

Will smiled at that.

 

"Well, I'm with you," he said, and let his finger trail down Matthew's nose to his mouth. "No one is going to steal me away."

 

Matthew pressed a kiss to Will's wrist.

 

"I won't let them," he said, and something low settled in Will's gut.

 

-

 

It was insanity.

 

The frat house on the end of the row seemed to be ripping at the seams, unable to contain the symphony of noise and people that spilled out from it. They tumbled into the trampled, dirty snow, littered with empty bottles and red cups. The music was loud and grating, almost drowned up by the laughter of revelers.

 

"Disgusting," Matthew hissed, arm wrapped tight around Will's waist. Will hugged him close.

 

"We just have to find Beverly and stay for an hour," he promised, and let his eyes droop, so his lashes fanned over his darkened cheeks. Matthew sucked in a breath. "And then we can go back to your room, and do some _studying._ "

 

Matthew rushed them into the heat of the noise, eager to get the whole experience over with. Will himself felt strangely unperturbed by the noise, strangely out of himself. He grabbed a bottle of cheap wine – American vintage – and drank from it, and encouraged Matthew to do the same. He did, of course, unable to deny Will a thing.

 

Will's lips were stained a deep red, and he felt eyes upon him. He pushed himself deeper into Matthew's arms, and they fell upon an empty couch to pass the bottle of wine and soft kisses back and forth.

 

"People are looking at you," Matthew grumbled. Will, in his lap now, pouted.

 

"I'm not looking back, am I?" he snapped, upset at having Matthew's attentions interrupted. All around them, the noise swelled to a feverish, maddening pitch. "Stop paying attention to them and pay attention _to me._ "

 

"We shouldn't do this public," Matthew declared. "Too many people..."

 

Will took one final swig of the wine.

 

"Fine," he said, leaving Matthew's lap. "If you won't pay attention to me, I'll find someone who will."

 

He stormed off, ignoring Matthew's pleas to come back, and lost himself in the noise. There were plenty of open armed revelers, but one had lovely green eyes and pressed closed as they danced together.

 

"You're so hot," he breathed. "Fuck."

 

"Yeah?" Will offered, and the reveler laughed in disbelief.

 

"God, are you real?" he asked.

 

"Yes," he promised. "I'm going to show you so many things..."

 

"Get the fuck off him!"

 

Matthew appeared in a frenzy, bodily hauling Will off of the reveler, who disappeared into the grinding mass with a grumble. He dragged Will through the house with prodigious strength, until they were out in the open backyard. There, Will managed to wriggle out of his grip and dash off into the woods.

 

"Sorry, sorry!" Matthew called after him, but Will did not stop until the sound of the party were distant rumbles.

 

"You just make me so crazy, baby," Matthew finished, gripping Will's biceps. "I can't help myself."

 

"What, you can't even make out at a party because some stranger might be making eyes at me?" Will asked, cheeks a furious red. "I told you that I wasn't looking at them, I was looking at you, but apparently that's not good enough for _the king_."

 

"You're the one who went and danced with some stranger!" Matthew snapped. "I just about killed him."

 

"Because you wouldn't dance with me, because you won't have fun with me," Will hissed. "I'm not responsible for _your_ self-control when I want to have fun."

 

Matthew, furious now, raised his hand and let it fall on Will's cheek. The resounding _crack_ felt like a gunshot in the quiet woods. The birds hiding in the trees fled with frantic songs. The air grew very still.

 

"How dare you," Will said, low and dangerous. Matthew, as if realizing what he had done, started to panic.

 

"Sorry, baby, I'm so sorry," he rambled. "God, God, I just let my temper get the best of me, I'll never let it happen again..."

 

"Don't touch me again," Will said coldly. "We're through."

 

He pulled away from Matthew, and started making his way back to the party. Matthew made a strangled noise, and tackled him to the snowy ground. They wrestled around, but Matthew's frame was so much larger than Will's, and he held him down in the snow/

 

"You'll never leave me," Matthew said, eyes wide and crazed. His hands found Will's throat, and pressed out.

 

Will choked, feeling the world slid in and out of focus as black danced along his vision. Matthew bent down to press a kiss to Will's stained lips, and Will cast out his hand, searching through the snow. It gripped a rock, and with the last of his remaining strength, he smashed it into Matthew's temple.

 

Blood splattered down on to Will's face, and Matthew collapse, hands growing lax. Will pushed him off and into the snow, coughing and struggling to regain his breath.

 

Air rattling in his lungs, he looked over at Matthew, and then at the bloody rock in his hand, as what he had done hit him.

 

There was blood on his hands when he called Hannibal's number, a sob in his throat.

 

"I'm in trouble," he confessed, and Hannibal seemed to know exactly what he meant. "Please help me, I'm in trouble..."

 

"I'll be right there," he promised, and hung up. Will knelt in the snow beside Matthew's body, and carefully rolled it over.

 

His face was twisted into ecstasy, staring up at the dark gray sky. Will's breath was turning into smoke that drifted up and up.

 

The crunch of shoes on the snow, and Hannibal was there with a dark towel.

 

"Wipe off your hands and the rock," he instructed. "Throw the rock into the trees, and then go to the car. I'll deal with the body."

 

Will followed Hannibal's instructions to the letter, and when he sat in the car he toed off his shoes in order to properly curl up on to the seat. Hannibal had left the car on so it would be heated, and there was a gentle classical song on the radio.

 

The sound of the trunk opening and closing; Hannibal slid into the driver's seat.

 

"We got into a fight," Will confessed without prompting. "He slapped me and then tried to strangle me."

 

"So you bashed in his head with a rock," Hannibal said. Will nodded.

 

"I didn't know what to do," Will said. "But I knew you would."

 

Hannibal snorted.

 

They pulled into the garage of his castle, and Hannibal shut off the car.

 

"Go wash up," Hannibal said. "You smell like debauchery and death. Then come meet me in the basement."

 

Will followed the instructions, as meek as a lamb. He stayed in the shower a long time, until there was no more smell of wine or parties or Matthew, washed down the drain. When he stepped out, there were fresh towels but no robe or clothes left out for him.

 

He descended into the dark, cool basement naked. Nary a night ago he had fallen down these stairs in his haste to get away from this place, and now he walked down them willingly.

 

Hannibal wore a plastic suit, and Matthew was stretched across his altar. He had not bothered closing his eyes, but his ribcage had been splayed open in a terrible mockery of angel wings. Hannibal watched him with dark eyes and a darker smile.

 

"Will you honor him, your first worshipper?" Hannibal asked. "Or will you let his love go to waste?"

 

With surgical precision, Hannibal severed Matthew's heart from the rest of his corpse, and offered it to Will like he offered breakfast that morning – an invitation. A test.

 

Will reached out and gripped it, and it was still warm in his hands. Blood ran down the pale length of his arms and dripped on to the concrete floor. He lifted it up to his mouth, and took a bite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And at 51 pages (with 12 point Times New Roman double spaced font) this terrible tragedy of a story ends with me killing Matthew. Again. I swear I like him, he's just convenient.
> 
> I'm thinking of writing out a lot of my inspiration and thought processes for the imagery and themes in this piece, along with posting the original short story this was based off of. If this interests you, please come over to my Tumblr, rainbowdracula.tumblr.com. I'd love to hear from you.
> 
> A big thank you to everyone who has commented, subscribed, and given me kudos, you really helped push me to get this out. Before you ask, I am thinking of a sequel, but not before I see how the show does Francis (hint hint.)
> 
> Love you all.

**Author's Note:**

> In the ancient Greek practice of pederasty, the eromenos ("beloved") was the lover of a typically older man who acted as a mentor.
> 
> I made Hannibal a Classics professor because I know nothing about psychology but I do know a lot about Greek mythology. Will comes across as kind of spineless in this chapter, but I'm definitely planning on showing our vicious mongoose in his full glory soon.
> 
> This is based off an original horror short story I wrote once. If people want to see it I'll post it to my tumblr, but it does contain spoilers for the basic plot of this one.
> 
> I hope everyone likes it!


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